


let's just punch our feelings

by screaminginternally



Series: we're matching idiots [2]
Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Teenagers are stupid, but it ties more firmly into if brokenness, this is a sort-of Chad POV of it's my party, with other characters being referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 19:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11168628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaminginternally/pseuds/screaminginternally
Summary: "ride together die together" can only last so long sometimes. or, the story of how two kids grew up together, away from each other, and then fought each other to get back together.





	let's just punch our feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruff_ethereal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/gifts).



Jane, as a person, was nice. Just . . nice. For a lot of people, there wasn't anything remarkable about her, save who her mother was. There wasn't anything worth digging for, what you saw was what you got. A forgettable person entirely.

 

As with most people, that was absolutely _not_ the actual case.

 

Chad had known Jane his whole life (Quite literally. Born seven days apart, their mothers had put them in the same cradle by the time Jane was two days old) and in all that time, he'd never gotten the sense that Jane was comfortable. Not in the comfy-in-a-room way, or comfy-in-a-conversation way, more in a her-skin-didn't-fit-her-soul way. There was just something that radiated as _off_ , the same way Aunt Abigail and the Faeries that blessed Audrey's mother did. They were not human - at an instinctual level you could tell.

 

Chad had never considered it a deficit for Jane herself - it was just a part of her, like your eyes or ears or fingers. You didn't think twice about its existence: it was just _there_.

 

So, of course, going to school and interacting with people that didn't think the same way threw that belief out the window.

 

* * *

 

It was easy to ignore the other kids through elementary. Arguments and feuds would start at the drop of a hat only to end by the last bell of the day. Forgiving and forgetting was easy. Everything was easy - friendships, games, classes. No real problems. No worries.

 

Jane didn't have the worries she would later in life yet either. Never quick with a smile, but quick with her brain, Jane was great at coming up with games, even if Chad had to be the one to suggest them to the group at large; she was always the top of the class without trouble, and always happy to help everyone out, just like her mother. Until the requests for magic. Chad wasn't there when that one girl - he couldn't quite remember her name, she'd never seemed very interesting. Chantelle? Chanelle? Her name was something like that - she'd asked Jane to magic up some pretty dress, or long hair or something of that manner. Jane, following her mother's rules, didn't. Couldn't. She didn't know how. Chad knew she didn't know how, even when they were so young they didn't know what laws were. Aunt Abby didn't do magic anymore. Jane had never done magic. No need for questions.

 

Chantelle/Chanelle didn't like that. Chad might not remember her as a person, but he did remember the screaming, begging fit she'd had that day at lunchtime, screaming at Jane for not solving her problems the way 'Fairy Godmothers' were supposed to. Jane didn't say anything in defence, just stared with wide, bright eyes as the girl who first broke the veil declared Jane the most selfish person she'd ever met.

 

The girl had gotten sent home over the ruckus, but Jane didn't smile for the rest of the day, even when her favourite pudding was for dessert.

 

That night, Chad had crawled into Jane's bed at Charmington Castle where she lived during the school year, and asked what had happened. It took some doing, but Jane eventually talked.

 

"Camille" - so that was her name - "wanted me to give her Rapunzel's long gold hair. With magic. And she wanted me to turn her eyes purple, like Princess Aurora. So she'd be prettier, so that people would smile at her when they saw her, like they do those princesses."

 

"But you can't do magic."

 

"I told her that. She just said that I should try to do it anyway, because Mum's the Fairy Godmother, and that's what I'm supposed to do, because I'll be a fairy godmother too when I grow up."

 

"And then?"

 

Jane's voice got quieter, and she curled in on herself the way she did when she didn't like what she was about to say. "And then she said she didn't care that I couldn't do it, I should do it anyway - otherwise what was the point of me existing? If I couldn't do magic, how can I be a faerie? I - I would just be a freak w-with weird e-ears." Jane started crying, her breath coming in hard, hiccuping sobs. Chad hugged her, the childish comfort of empathy.

 

* * *

 

(Of course it was stupid and cruel and petty. They were _six_. Stupid and cruel and petty was all the harshness they knew how hurt each other with. Royalty and Nobility aren't supposed to hit each other when they question the point of someone else's existence.)

 

* * *

 

But that was just the first. Over the course of elementary school, a bunch of kids - mostly girls, trying to be just like the Princesses on TV, but some boys - would ask Jane to do magic to 'fix' them. Or, failing that, just demand she help them anyway. Jane did the best she could, sometimes even having a happy customer. (Saying thank you was still beyond the capabilities of most of them, though.) A lot of the time, though, they'd get mad and yell at her. Call her useless. Or a freak.

 

That's when Chad would get mad right back.

 

"She said she doesn't do that, stupid!" He'd yell. "Get a clue! Just because you can't fix your own problems doesn't mean you can make someone else do it for you!" (The irony of this would hit him in his teen years, don't worry.)

 

They'd yell back, and Jane would try to shrink into a ball on the floor. Fists would be thrown, teachers and parents would be called. The lessons would not be learned however, because maybe two weeks later, the scenario would repeat itself.

 

* * *

 

Jane'd be happiest on the weekend, when it was just them. And Cindy. And Charlie. (But they didn't count, because Cindy was a _baby_ , she was three years younger than them, she wouldn't know how to play properly and Charlie had his _own_ friends. Jane was _Chad's_ friend, and he didn't want to share her with his brother and sister.) They'd play Handsome Prince and the Faerie Lady, who fought the Beasts of the Kingdom and Saved the Day and Got the Reward Even Though True Heroism Is In Doing Good Deeds Without Reward (the beasts being the animal-shaped hedges in the gardens, and the rewards being unprotected biscuits and cakes in the kitchens), riding on their noble steed (a cardboard horse they'd made together, big enough to fit them both). Sometimes, Queen Belle would stop for a day with his mother and bring Ben, who was Chad's other best friend, when he was around. But Ben was quieter than Chad, so instead of Handsome Prince and Faerie Lady, they'd play board games or do painting or drawing or Chad and Jane would play on the piano or something. Always something fun. Always something that Jane would smile about.

 

Chad didn't know what people would smile about when he said that Jane's smile was important when it came to their games, and he didn't care. But Jane's smile was important. Especially on the weekend. She didn't smile at school very much anymore. So Jane smiling on the weekend was Extra Important.

 

* * *

 

Jane didn't smile with her mouth very much, but you could look at her eyes and see the grin. Until you couldn't. Until Jane was so stoic and closed off, no matter what airs of friendliness she put on that she almost radiated sadness. And loneliness. There was a reason not a lot of people went out of their way to talk to her, but always at least vaguely tried to be cheerful, as if to counteract Jane.

 

The weight of the loss hung heavy on Chad's neck.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, they suffered through enough elementary and middle school to go to High School. Specifically, Auradon Preparatory Academy. Where Aunt Abby worked, where the Best of the Best went to school, and learned everything they'd need to be the Heroes that was their legacy. In their blood. Charlie went there, and now Chad was going there too. So was Jane. Chad buzzed with excitement.

 

* * *

 

Annnnd in the grand tradition of what happens when your expectations are high, high school was a massive let down. They had even more homework, they had to work harder, like they hadn't done that before: Math, English, French, Sports, Government, Music, History, Science _and_ Art? Now they had all those classes, _and_ Arabic, Chinese and more science classes? _And_ more electives? There wasn't enough hours in the day to even GO to class, never mind do the homework. AND Chad knew that Jane was working on her own projects, her knitting and reading and research stuff she did that was really boring but she liked anyway for some reason.

 

Charlie told him that high school was fun. Charlie was a big fat liar. Dad had told him that Jane or Ben would be in all his classes. They weren't. Dad, you big fat liar.

 

Still. It wasn't all bad, despite the classes and teachers and homework. He'd become friends with a bunch of boys that he'd only knew passingly for years. Seth, Snow White's son, who'd inherited her black hair and pale skin, no matter how much time he spent in the sun. Lee, the cousin of Prince Naveen, along with Naveen's son James Tyrone, referred exclusively by his middle name. William, who was somehow related to Chad's dad - was he a second cousin? The point was, Chad hadn't spent much time around him before - and Hugh, Hercules' son, one of two twins, and who wouldn't have a civil conversation with his polar-opposite brother Phillip if you paid him.

 

(Also in the grand tradition of a bunch of boys with high energy levels and excellent athletic ability, all of them ended up on a sports team. Specifically, Tourney.)

 

Chad still tried to hang out with Jane, but it was harder. She'd been moved into her own personal room closer to the kitchens, in a room that used to be some office in the castle that the school now inhabited; after having a bunch of panic attacks from proximity (he'd learned that word from Jane) in the room she'd shared with some girl - Lucy, Lonnie? Her mother was General Mulan, anyway. She was separated from the rest of the dorms, and it was pretty obvious that he was going to see her if he went to her room now. Chad didn't like the way the other kids looked at him when he said he was friends with Jane.

 

None of them had called her the 'F' word yet, nor the 'U' word, but he could tell they were thinking it. Everyone thought she was a weirdo. They didn't like being around her - something just seemed _off_. Chad had tried explaining it was just a faerie thing, but Melissa had just said, "Well, if its a magic thing, she should just stop doing it. She's a faerie, her mother's Fairy Godmother. She should know how, I bet she just doesn't care whether we're comfortable around her."

 

Chad had gripped his seat till his knuckles were white, but he'd managed to keep from losing his temper.

 

His peers frustrated him on the topic of Jane, and magic. They didn't listen to any explanations about magic, they just expected anyone who could use it to use it to fix their problems. Chad just grit his teeth and let someone change the topic.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't until the end of the first ever semester of high he'd had that Chad had realised: he and Jane hadn't texted for almost two whole months. Ditto for calling. And games or even just hanging out. Two months.

 

Jane had texted him last, asking if he wanted to come watch a movie at her mother's brownstone building in Auradon City, maybe play some video games? He hadn't replied. he couldn't remember even _seeing_ it. Guilt rose in his chest, squeezing his lungs. He'd talk to her over the winter break. They'd make plans. They'd keep them. They'd be fine.

 

* * *

 

Chad did not talk to Jane over the break. He did not make plans with her. He did not even text her, except a quick 'thx' when she'd congratulated him on the game wins for the junior tourney games.

 

They did not engage in anything except polite, vague conversation for the next three years, until sophomore year, after Ben decided to uproot the entire system of life they'd been taught to live, and bring evil over from an island of garbage.

 

Chad had known Ben was smarter than him. But he hadn't believed Ben could still be so _stupid_.

 

* * *

 

Not all his interest in Evie was fake. He did think she was pretty, her smile was gorgeous, but her vague brushing off of his mum's childhood sank that ship like that Titanic boat Jane had told him about, so Chad didn't feel _that_ bad about the homework thing, or the mirror thing.

 

(Ratty dress, like his mum _chose_ to only have two changes of clothes. Holy Spirits.)

 

* * *

 

Okay, so maybe insulting and yelling at the Isle kids right after they'd been yelled at by Queen Leah was petty, but Chad was still smarting from the bruises that Jay had given him, Ben was acting super weird, Audrey was upset, Jane suddenly had _long hair_ , and tensions were running high. He was being a jerk, but he also wasn't that wrong. Evie was a gold digging cheater of homework (and Chad would know. He'd been cheating on homework since ninth grade). Jay was a violent prick (the bruises on his opponents proved it), and Mal . . Chad would probably never be able to prove it, but Ben suddenly, publicly, breaking up with Audrey in front of the _whole school_ was just so wildly out of character for him that Chad was willing to bet his entire bank account that Mal had had something to do with it.

 

The headache he'd gotten from whatever it was Evie'd sprayed in his face was probably deserved though.

 

Still, his head wasn't ringing so badly he didn't notice Doug trying to _apologise_ to the little villains, nor Mal using some kind of magic on Jane. He knew he was right not to try and like them.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, no matter what Cindy ate or did, she was still stupidly skinny. Chad plonked his jaw on her scalp as he hugged her, which bugged her as much as it always did. His sister jabbed him in the ribs, hard.

 

"Ow, little sister. Don't you know not to jab someone in their bruises?"

 

"Stop sticking your pointy jaw on my head every time I try to hug you and I'll consider it, medium brother." Just freshly thirteen, Cynthia Pearl Charming* was juuust developing that attitude most all teenage girls were famous for. Not quite the degree of say, Jordan or Melissa, but enough that Chad didn't feel that bad about being a shit to her, because she was giving as good as she got.

 

Like now, for instance. "So what're the Isle kids like? I saw them across the hall at Ben's coronation after the, ahem, Incident. The boy with the muscles and long hair was cute." Cindy grinned at him, knowing exactly how much Chad liked his newest teammate. Chad gave his sister a pained expression that settled into an annoyed glare.

 

"A kleptomaniac that doesn't know how to not use excessive force on the field."

 

"I thought those kids had declared themselves 'good'." Cindy moved her fingers in air-quotes around the word 'good'.

 

"Just because they're willing to commit to actual morality does not mean I have to like them as people. They're good at what they bother to put effort into. That doesn't mean I want to actively try to spend time with them."

 

"Aw, medium brother. Look at you, being a fair-handed asshole."

 

"That's the only other kind of asshole in my possession."

 

"Children." The strict voice of Prudence, Charmington Castle's housekeeper, cut through the air. The prince and princess turned to look at her. "That is not appropriate language for either of you. At least, not here in the hall, where anyone can hear you."

 

"Sorry Prudence," they chorused. Chad saluted the housekeeper to match her nod, and the three continued in their ways.

 

They did not get far before Cindy spoke again. "Have you spoken to Jane?" Her voice was quiet with concern. Chad's face was solemn.

 

"Nah. I tried, on the way back to the dorms at the end of the after-party, but she just ducked into one of those wall passageways. I figured that if she was _that_ desperate to avoid me, I'd let her have the point."

 

"You need to talk to her, Chad. She listens to you. You were the only person who could make her feel better, you can do it now."

 

"That was years ago."

 

"Three years ago."

 

"Shut up. Jane made the first selfish mistake of her life at the coronation, if I went in there and tried to downplay it, she'd probably shank me with a knitting needle." Cindy opened her mouth to speak, but Chad kept barrelling on, "I'll talk to her soon, just not right now. I think she deserves some privacy, y'know. To process. I can't imagine how she's dealing with it all."

 

Cindy got a word in edgewise, albeit quietly. "I can imagine the guilt might be eating her alive."

 

"Maybe. Aunt Abby looked ready to ream into her at the coronation after Maleficent was defeated."

 

"What stopped her?"

 

"Maleficent Junior." Chad did not know if that was Mal's actual name, and he didn't care. "Called Jane 'beautiful inside and out', like that was all the problems she had."

 

"Maybe, but did you see the way she stared at the wand?" Charlie had joined his siblings in marching down the halls, asking the million-dollar question.

 

"Yeah. I knew she's always wanted to use magic, but I didn't think she'd go that far." Cindy gazed at her brothers with her mother's eyes.

 

"I don't think any of us thought she'd go that far." Chad said quietly.

 

The three siblings looked at each other, trying to figure out how to help their fourth sibling.

 

* * *

 

After convening with his siblings for a while, it was decided that the best place for Chad to talk to Jane would be at the brownstone in Auradon City. A thirty minute drive from school, a home turf for Jane so she'd feel safe, if not happy. Deal-able, if it came to the point that Jane threw him out of the building. There was just one problem: Jane had a habit, even after making kinda-friends with the Isle kids, to drive straight to the building after the last class on Friday. She kept clothes there, food there, everything she needed to not have to leave once she got there. A no guarantee that she'd let Chad in the door.

 

So. Gifted with Charlie's key to the building, Chad made sure he'd packed a change of clothes in his car, was as up-to-date with his homework as he could be, noted the locations of the school security cameras, and prepared to ditch the last classes of the afternoon, so as to beat Jane to the building.

 

Except for the fact that he got caught sneaking out. By Jane's mother. His Aunt Abigail. Crap.

 

* * *

 

"Chadwick. I sincerely hope you're not doing what I think you're doing."

 

Chad froze in the awkward freezing of a child with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. It was a sight Abigail had seen quite a number of times in Chad's life. She was well-acquainted with the 'oh crap' framing of Chad's body. With the expression of someone about to badly lie their way out of a situation, Chad replied, "That depends. What is it you think I'm doing?"

 

"I think you're trying to sneak out of school, is what I think you're doing."

 

"I think that it would depend on your definition of sneaking is, auntie."

 

"I define sneaking as trying to get in or out of places you're not supposed to be. How would you define it?" The back-and-forth caused Abigail to have to keep a stern expression, despite her desire to smile.

 

"I define it as a type of shoe often used by athletes-"

 

"Chad." He stopped talking. "Why are you leaving school a full two hours before the end of the actual school day? Please do not lie to me."

 

With that, his body drooped. He'd given up any attempt at a ruse. Although, Abigail was not expecting the answer. "I'm leaving school early to beat Jane to the brownstone. I need to talk - to apologise to her. But I don't have any guarantee she'd let me in the door."

 

"Oh." Abigail tried to think of a sentence. Chad thought of one first. "Look, you can give me detention, and I won't argue or question it. Just . . please let me try and make things right between me and Jane."

 

The teacher in Abigail reared their head. "Jane and _I_ , Chad." Her brain had appropriately rebooted, and the mother in her overpowered the headmistress in her. "And . . I shall pretend I did not see you, for you to do this. And you'll have detention Wednesday, Thursday and Friday afternoon next week. For not showing up for class."

 

Chad grinned with relief.

 

"I look forward to it, Aunt Abby."

 

Abigail quickly whipped her body around and she walked away in the other direction.

 

Chad slipped out the door and managed to get off campus without getting caught again.

 

* * *

 

Chad was making a tea - an Aunt Abby specialty, excellent for quelling the nerves - when the front door opened and closed. He couldn't help himself - he tensed. Footsteps into the kitchen.

 

"So, what. I don't wanna talk to anyone at school and so you invade my home?" Great. Pissed at first sight. Chad breathed deep and turned around. Eyes hard and bright, tense facial muscles, rigid body language. She was itching for a fight. Crap.

 

Chad just told himself, _for the love of all the gods, Chad, stay. calm._

 

He exhaled.

 

"Does it count as invasion if you have a key?"

 

"If you don't ask first, then hell yeah." Keeping her eyes on him, Jane dumped her bag onto the floor and moved to the still steaming kettle. Tea bag, water. Two spoons of honey. Stirred, she out the spoon in the sink and the used bag into the bin. Turned back to him, keeping the space, before moving behind the table to sit in the windowsill. She was angry, ready to be on the defence.

 

"So," she asked, "what the hell are you doing here, Chadwick?"

 

He took a small sip from his own mug. "Wanted to talk to you."

 

"About?"

 

"You. The last three years between us."

 

Jane was unmoved. "You do know that green button on your phone, yeah? Well, if you press it after hitting my number, you _can_ talk to me."

 

"No guarantee you'd pick up."

 

"How would you know? You've never called. That was my job in our friendship, remember?"

 

Chad winced. He deserved that. Jane's face was still a mask, although it had changed from tense-with-anger to a more tranquil fury. Tranquil was good, he could work with that.

 

"You are correct," he said, nodding stiffly. "My job was to be the asshat that expected the world to do as he said."

 

"At least you know your strengths."

 

They drank. The silence was practically painful. Why was he doing this again? Oh right - perennial fuckup was he.

 

He broke it. Jane's blue eyes felting like they were drilling into his head, and he had to do something to alleviate the pressure.

 

"Have you ever had something to say to me? I've been a real asshole over the last couple years. Would've thought that you'd wanna yell at me over it."

 

Well. He got a reaction. Jane put her mug on the ledge next to her, and re-caught his eyes in her Kubrick Stare.

 

"Fine. Where would you like to start? With everyone deciding that I was to be the school weirdo, once it became apparent that I wasn't going to be the Fairy Goddaughter? How you went along with it? How you went off and made a whole bunch of new friends, and completely forgot the old?" Jane's every word dripped with repressed hurt. "How being at the school with the slogan 'Good Can't Get Any Better' is somehow _worse_ than just going to school with a bunch of small bratty children, just by virtue of sheer entitlement and snottiness?" He'd forgotten Jane had an eidetic memory. He'd forgotten how advanced her mind was. She'd never forgotten anything in her life, why would she forget the crappy treatment she'd been given at the hands of their peers? "Or maybe, Chadwick Kitridge Charming, we could discuss that you were somehow dumb enough to believe that _high school popularity_ is important enough to throw away a really good friendship for? A lifelong friendship."

 

Jane breathed deeply, her eyes shining, but . . not with anger anymore. She wasn't about to cry, was she?

 

Chad was shamefaced, his mouth open, unable to grasp the words that could make this better. He tried anyway. "I'm sorry. Jane. I can't say it enough, but . . I am. I've really missed you the last couple years."

 

Well, that did _something_.

 

"Well," she said, "I missed you too. Probably more than you did me."

 

Chad didn't argue the point.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, they forced themselves through conversation. Jane detailed her years of loneliness, Chad his superficiality and laziness. The coronation would likely remain a sore point for a while, as well as Family Day. But they did it. They'd be okay.

 

(Chad actually meant it this time.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> *In this story, Cinderella's mother was named Pearl, because I did actually check, and Cinderella's mother has never been given a name.
> 
> -
> 
> notes: kids are cruel. also, before anyone says something about the classload of the kids, these kids are expected to be future diplomats and politicians, running countries and organisations. and they're expected of it from childhood. of course their classload would be nuts.
> 
> a lot of the Auradon Prep kids probably didn't grow up around or near fae, so they aren't used to the 'aura' around them. they also don't care to get used to it, so it would've mattered how nice Jane was to them. They're rich, entitled brats that don't know how to deal with difference. Audrey, on the other hand, IS something of Jane's friend, because she's used to the 'aura', due to Flora, Fauna and Merryweather doting on her.  
> and yeah, Chad's a total momma's boy.
> 
> I theorise that the first Descendants movie takes place midway through the second semester in the school year, because the Tourney Championship was in the canon of the movie, and I may not know a lot about sports, but I do know that 'championships' tend to be later in a school year. Also the weather seemed way to bright.
> 
> Overall, I don't think I've ended this fic where I wanted to, but I guess I'll just follow through in some chapter or another in 'if brokenness'.


End file.
